Arda Marred, Arda Mutilated
by Stareyes1
Summary: With this influx of fanfiction, what will happen to the world of Arda? And what will the residents think? And what will they do to the instigators? *See authors notes inside for explanation*


DISCLAIMER: I do not own Tolkien, nor any of his works. I simple list them gently from their settings, before carefully writing about them, and transferring them back carefully. Or at least I hope that is what I do.  
  
Authors note: Yes, I know. This fic is insanely stereotypical, very Mary Sue bashing, and quite a few other things that it probably shouldn't be (including out of character Valar). Blame it all on the plotbunny *sage nod* Constructive criticism and flattery will be oohed over, flames will be generally ignored. No flame wars please. Else Starry will have to get out the Pointy-Stick-Of-Doom.  
  
I apologize if I have ripped off anyone's idea, it was not my intention to do so. This occurred to me late one night and at the time of typing, I am not aware of other stories like this on the site.  
  
And many thanks go to Kazzy, for the thought about Arda Mutilated. Have I told you lately that you're mad?  
  
-----  
  
"You too can see the land of your dreams! Have you ever dreamed of visiting Middle Earth, meeting your favorite characters and soaking up the atmosphere of a truly fantastic world? Well, now is your chance! Call 0800 618 FANTASY LAND to book now!!!"  
  
If that advert didn't work, then Lalaith didn't know what would.  
  
The arranged meeting place for the tour was crowded. Lalaith sighed at the sigh of all the pink that many of the girls (for there were no boys), seemed to think was an essential part of traveling to another world. Not to mention the high heels. But there were are few who were (by her standards anyway), sensibly dressed. Lalaith pasted a bright, artificial smile on her face and moved over to join the gaggle.  
  
"Welcome to METS, the Middle Earth Tour Service!" she said, her voice cheerful, though it didn't quite ring true. "My name is Lalaith and I will be your guide today. Now, before we leave for the first part of the tour, are there any questions?"  
  
"When do we get to see Leggy!" squealed one girl, dressed in a pink shirt, and whose attempt to make herself to make herself look seductive with makeup had only succeeded in making her look like a distressed panda.  
  
"You will see Legolas." and Lalaith's bright voice couldn't conceal the bite in her voice as she made sure to say the whole name instead of the dreaded cutsie nickname. "When we reach Rivendell. Anything else?"  
  
One of the sensibly dressed girls, who looked to be in her late teens raised a hand. "Nothing to do with the tour, but would I be right in thinking that you're named after one of the earlier characters in the Silmarillion?"  
  
Lalaith regarded the girl with no small amount of curiosity, and pleasure. "Well, well." she muttered to herself. "Something we didn't expect, but we planned for just in case it should happen."  
  
Her blue eyes looked over to where a tree stood, casting a shadow with its branches. Anyone watching as closely as Lalaith was would have seen the shadows twitch, before a grey clad woman materialized and walked over to join Lalaith, silently handing her a piece of paper.  
  
"Indeed." Lalaith remembered to answer the question. "I am named after Lalaith, the daughter of Morwen Eledhwen, and Hurin Thalion. Now, before we begin the tour, this is rather a large group, so to ensure that you have our individual attention to make this trip more enjoyable, we're going to split you up. The following people will be with myself, and the rest will be with my esteemed colleague Vaire." Finished her speech, Lalaith began to read off the names. It was done subtly, but gradually all the pink and squealing fangirls were siphoned off from the rather more intelligent and sensible ones.  
  
"Now then." Lalaith began once the seperation had been accomplished. "If you ladies would like to accompany me, we can begin the tour." Vaire winced and muttered a 'good luck' as Lalaith, still beaming brightly, left with her group. Then Vaire turned to face the intelligent ones.  
  
"Before you ask, yes, I am named after a character in Arda. To be honest I am, that character in Arda. My name is Vaire, also known as Vaire the Weaver."  
  
Whispers and a multitude of startled looks greeted this announcement and Vaire smiled.  
  
"But you've got nothing to worry about from me. Its those in the other group that should worry."  
  
"Why?" one of the girls asked, looking slightly worried.  
  
"You are going to visit Arda Marred." Vaire explained. "They are going to visit Arda Mutilated."  
  
-----  
  
Manwe sighed. Varda patted his arm sympathetically as the two gazed from Taniquetil at the world. The land flickered and shifted as they watched it, tugged by the thousands of words that flowed into it every second.  
  
"Don't dwell on it dear." Varda advised. "There was nothing that we could do to save it."  
  
"I know." Manwe said sorrowfully. "But somehow."  
  
"I understand." Varda murmured. "But be grateful for what we were able to do, thanks to Namo."  
  
Manwe smiled. "Yes, there is that." he replied, and pride was in his voice as the pair turned and looked out over Valinor. But where the Walls of Endless Night should have been, they were not. For they had been pushed back. And now, beyond Valinor, lay Arda. An Arda that was untouched, unspoiled.  
  
"Hardly any of these fangirls have heard of Valinor, much less know where it is located. And those who do crop up here, we can easily deal with. Trust Namo to think of that." and the pride in Varda's voice was obvious.  
  
"And then for use to transfer everything. A feat fit for legends. And at least this way, we might preserve something. With fathers blessing."  
  
"With fathers blessing." Varda echoed.  
  
------  
  
Vaire gestured and a grey space appeared in the air. There was no sound effects, no gaudy display. It was simply there,  
  
"Welcome to Arda Marred." she said as she gestured her group through.  
  
They reassembled in a grass field, underneath a cloudless blue sky. The air was filled with the scents of summer and children's laughter drifted on the breeze.  
  
A man was waiting for them there, his skin dark, but not as dark as his coal black eyes. To gaze into those eyes was to glimpse the final ending of all things, the past, the present and the future. Cold and harsh as those eyes seemed at first, comfort flared in their depths, peace and rest combining.  
  
Vaire smiled at the sight of the man and was greeted with a kiss and a whispered something that made her giggle.  
  
The group muttered to each other, some of their faces indicating recognition of this mystery man. Vaire elected to put those who didn't recognize him out of their misery.  
  
"This is my husband Namo, who dwells in Mandos. But, shall we start the tour?"  
  
As Namo slipped away, the group began to recover their composure and nodded an affirmation.  
  
"Welcome to the Eastfarthing of the Shire." Vaire began. "Currently, we are approximately five minutes walk from Hobbiton, where our tour will officially start with a meeting in the Ivy Bush with Mr Baggins, senior and junior, Mr and Mrs Gamgee and Mr Took. My Brandybuck will be joining us slightly later as he has something to attend to. If you would care to follow me?"  
  
And so began the tour of Arda Marred, that which was stained by Morgoth, but as yet untouched from the disease that rampaged elsewhere. Hormones.  
  
------  
  
Lalaith led her gaggle onwards, pausing only briefly to active the portal that would lead them to Arda. The gasps that the fangirls gave on arriving made Lalaith grin viciously.. They stood on a bare and fire blasted plain, occasional tufts of brown and withered grass still clinging to the surface.  
  
"Welcome to Arda Mutilated." Lalaith said, and there was no brightness in her tone, but a peculiar combination of anger and glee. "Welcome to what you all have created."  
  
Then she slipped, almost mockingly into her tour guide mode. "Welcome to the Shire. Currently, as none of the four 'cute' hobbits are here, the Shire is a desolate wasteland, torn apart by all the original characters that have been thrown in here with no due care and attention. If you look to your left, you will see a monument to lost punctuation, erected by Rosie Gamgee, nee Cotton after she was concussed once to often by a falling comma from elsewhere. To your right, you will see the road that leads to Bree, where, thanks to one of your plotholes, we will reach in approximately two minutes. There we will meet Estel, who will show us some traditional Bree customs and pursuits."  
  
The oohs and ahhs that followed this comment, as well as speculations about what Estel would look like made Lalaith have to stifle a cackle. Oh, but they would learn. 


End file.
